


Holding Out On Safe Ground

by Alexdoesthings



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Canon Het Relationship, Canon-Typical Violence, Canonical Character Death, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Late Night Conversations, Nightmare!Derek, Nightmares, Not A Fix-It
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-14
Updated: 2013-04-14
Packaged: 2017-12-08 11:11:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,583
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/760685
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alexdoesthings/pseuds/Alexdoesthings
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Allison can't get the nightmares out of her head. Instead she goes for a walk in the woods, looking for trouble, and shoots one Scott McCall in the leg with an arrow.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Holding Out On Safe Ground

**Author's Note:**

> I had to take a detour from my usual pairing because as much as I love Sterek, Scott and Allison hold a special place in my heart. They are the canon couple that I love more than almost any other and even though they are not my OTP for this fandom I ship them ridiculously hard.
> 
> I was watching Kate's death scene and Allison's reaction and it occurred to me that she would have nightmares about that for the rest of her life. Then I realized she would probably also have nightmares about her mother's death. Then I thought, what if her nightmares were to mix those two deaths? So I rolled with that.
> 
> And I like Nightmare!Derek

Allison wished she didn’t dream at all. She wished she could put her head down on her pillow and know that she would sleep soundly, woken only by the rays of morning light through her window. But she did not sleep soundly, not anymore. Now she had visions of fanged monsters in her head, clawed beasts tearing into flesh.

There was one that she knew well because it came to her often. It always began with Peter’s clawed hand around Kate’s neck, just like that night. She knew what was going to happen but she helpless to stop it. Scott was nowhere to be found, her protector disappeared. Then Peter’s claws dug in and ripped across her throat, blood pouring out of the wound in a cascade down her front. As Kate’s body fell it turned into her mother’s, eyes wide and mouth agape at Allison. Allison had run forward in life but in the nightmare she dropped to her knees, losing the ability to stand with the weight of her grief. She would look up at the werewolf and it would not be Peter anymore, it would be Derek. He would be looking at his clawed hand in a satisfied manner. Then he’d look up at her with a predatory smile, amused, and said, as his eyes took on their red glow, “How cute.”

There were many terrible versions of her nightmares but the ones that always woke her screaming had her mother in them. The rest she woke from shaking and reaching for her bow, but when her mother was involved she screamed loud enough to wake her father. It didn’t happen frequently, but it did happen.

Chris would run into her room, armed and expecting a fight, only to find a far worse battle raging within his little girl, one he couldn’t fight for her. He would drop his weapon and hold her tight, comforting her as best he could. He knew her pain well and he wanted to take it away, but there was nothing he could do.

Some nights she would wake and walk through the woods with her bow; sometimes to do target practice but most times just in the hope that something would jump out and attack her so she could tear it apart. It should have been frightening, the darkened forest was full of shifting shadows and strange mist, but it was as much a comfort as her father’s arms. Here she could become just as much a beast as any of them and emerge into the morning light just the same girl she ever was.

She was not that girl anymore, she knew that, but she could throw on her makeup, walk up to Lydia, and pretend like everything was okay. Lydia was good for that. She had been through a lot in the past few months too. They rarely ever spoke about it, choosing to indulge in normalcy instead, their shared yet separate demons haunting them and tying them together as nothing else could.

On this night, Allison woke and dressed immediately, needing to be out of her house before the roof crushed her. She climbed from the window onto the shingles and took a steadying breath of fresh air. It was a calm night and the path through the trees called to her. She leapt and landed among the bushes in one smooth, well practiced move.

The preserve was gently lit by the half moon this night and Allison walked for a long time, wrapped in the gentle sounds of life among the trees. An owl hooted and something took off suddenly in a tree behind her. She spun on it, bow and arrow ready, but it was not within her line of sight. Then there was the sudden, silence shattering sound of a dry tree branch breaking underfoot. Allison spun toward that and fired her arrow. It whistled through the air and slammed home into something living that cried out in pain and surprise. The sound registered at the back of Allison’s mind but she couldn’t quite place it.

She knocked another arrow and, keeping an eye out for others, approached. The silhouette drug itself upright from where it had fallen and wrapped a hand around the arrow shaft in its leg, breathing erratic. It gave a great tug and the arrow shaft pulled free with the wet sound of flesh and blood accompanied by a gasp of pain. The two sounds it had made finally sounded familiar to her. Allison moved faster, letting the bowstring go slack as she neared and recognized that mop of unruly wavy brown hair.

“Scott,” she said urgently, dropping down next to him once she was close enough to identify him for sure.

He gave her a sheepish grin, saying with that slightly guilty sound to his voice like a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar before bed, “Hey Allison, fancy meeting you here.”

“Oh my god, Scott,” Allison said apologetically, reaching for the wound, “I’m so sorry.”

“No, it’s fine,” Scott assured her, raising an appeasing hand but not stopping her from examining the wound, “It was my fault; I should have said something.”

Milky light from the moon was slashed across the hole in Scott’s leg, glittering off the blood clinging to his pants. By the time Alison had ripped his jeans enough to take a proper look though, there was no wound to speak of save a slight indented red spot that was fading away. She sighed in relief and sat back on her heels.

Scott shifted into a more dignified sitting position and looked at her with his open, honest eyes. “It’s kind of late. What are you doing out here,” he asked like he’d just run across her at the supermarket and not just been shot in the woods in the middle of the night.

Allison was feeling guilty and awkward, tucking her hair behind her ears. As she was avoiding Scott’s gaze her eyes drifted toward a close growing group of trees and she froze at the sight of something large and hulking lurking there. Probably at her increased heart rate Scott’s head shot toward the direction she was looking, the glow of his eyes flaring up for a second. He relaxed and looked back at her quizzically as the demons of her dream melted into innocent shadow and she shook her head to clear it.

“I should go,” she said hurriedly, standing up.

Scott turned his head curiously to one side, watching her before standing too. There was understanding in his gentle gaze as he said, “I’ll join you. It’s dangerous out here at night.”

“I can take of myself Scott,” she protested quietly, turning to walk away. A warm, familiar hand caught hers and she stopped, looking back at him.

He was smiling that easy, infectious smile at her and said, “I know. I didn’t say you were the one who needed protecting.”

Allison couldn’t help herself, she laughed, shaking her head. She squeezed his hand in gratitude because Scott always knew what she needed. She lead the way deeper into the woods, not able to go back home with the nightmare still stalking her. Scott’s presence helped though. He was never there in the nightmares but he was always there for her in real life. Scott was good like that.

It took awhile, but eventually Scott got her to open up and tell him about her nightmare. Scott had a way of making her feel safe and loved that meant she didn’t have to be strong; he knew she was strong but he also knew when she needed someone to be strong for her. He was a good listener, inputting jokes and comfort in all the right places and just letting her say all the silly or horrible things that ran through her mind. It seemed like he always knew the right thing to say or do to make it, not better because nothing could do that, but he could make it bearable. He put it into prospective, reassured her it was okay, and even normal, to feel like she did. She didn’t cry, but he hugged her anyway. Scott was a good hugger, never abashed and always putting everything he had into it. He wrapped her up in his arms and she relaxed as she hadn’t been able to all night, melting against him.

She had been the one to break up with him so she wasn’t supposed to be comforted by him, wasn’t supposed to let him hold her and make her feel like she was finally grounded, finally safe, but she did. She knew she could break away from this hug now and walk away because he would let her, knowing that she needed to go back to being strong and pretending like she didn’t need him, because that was how Scott worked. She didn’t though. She thanked him quietly, not having the words to tell him all the things she was grateful for.

He nuzzled her head gently and hummed contentedly, “What are friends for?”

She smiled a little despite herself. They were just friends now, but they would never really be just friends. Everything he did, from the way he looked at her to the soft stroking of his thumb over her hand, spoke the words crystal clear so he didn’t have to, _I love you. I’ll always love you_. And that was the greatest comfort of all.


End file.
